“What’s the second thing?” Christian asks.
“You. My cemetery vision showed me that you make me stronger. You and me together, we can get through anything. We can be each other’s anchor. We can be each other’s strength.”
“You sound exactly like Angela right now, you realize?” he says.
I laugh and keep on talking. “And the third vision showed me what happened to her. If I hadn’t had that vision, I would never have known that we had to go out to the Pink Garter that night. Angela would have just disappeared, and the twins would have burned down the theater, and Web probably would have died, or they’d have taken him, too. I was meant to be there, Christian. And now I’m meant to go get her.”
“Clara, I don’t know,” he says doubtfully.
“It’s not all about me,” I say. “It’s about Angela. This entire time, it’s been about her. Come on.” I start tugging him into the welcoming coolness of the church. “Walk the labyrinth one more time, with me.”
Ten minutes later we’re both sitting in the front pew of the church, catching our breath. There’s no one else in the church, but when we talk, I get a sense that all the mosaic angels are listening.
“I saw it again,” I say to Christian, quietly, triumphantly. “Two minutes to midnight. The train even has the Caltrain logo on it. One comes in, headed north, and then a few minutes later another, headed south. That’s the one we’re going to take.”
“I didn’t see it,” he says, his face whiter than normal.
Some of my excitement fades. “You didn’t see the train?”
He shakes his head. “I saw Asael,” he murmurs.
My breath freezes in my lungs. “You saw him.”
“I saw his face. He was talking to me. I don’t know what he was saying, but he was less than ten feet away from me.”
That’s not good news. I mull this over for a minute. “But I see the train so clearly. And I’m waiting for you. I keep looking at my watch. I’m waiting for you to show up.”
“What if I don’t show up?” he says. “You can’t go, then. Samjeeza won’t take you without me, right?”
“But Christian, we have to go. It might be Angela’s only chance.”
“Angela’s gone,” he says. “She might not be dead, but she’s gone where the dead go.”
I stand up. “When did you turn into such a coward?”
He gets up, too. There’s a vein standing out on his neck that I’ve never seen before. “It’s not cowardly to not want to do something crazy.”
“Yes, this is crazy,” I admit. “I know that. Even in the vision pretty much all I’m thinking is, This is crazy. This is crazy. But I still do it.”
“We don’t have to do this, just because you see it,” he counters. “You and I both know that the visions never turn out quite how we expect them to.”
“I can’t leave Angela in hell,” I say, gazing up at him. “I won’t.”
“We’ll figure out another way.”
“What other way?”
“Maybe the congregation—”
“The congregation already said that they can’t help us.”
“We could ask your dad.”
I shake my head. “You remember what he said, don’t you? He said I had to be ready to face—whatever—without him. Helping me is not part of the plan.”
He stares up at the angels angrily. “Then what is he good for? What was all of that, the training, the talks, all of it, what good did it do us?” He sighs. “I thought we were partners,” he says softly. “I thought we’d decide things together. And here you go making deals with fallen angels without even telling me.”
I kneel down beside him. “You’re right. I should have talked to you first. We are partners. I’m counting on it, actually. I need you.”
“Because Samjeeza said you needed to bring a friend.”